


All the Wrong Choices

by demonbarber14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:09:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2228520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonbarber14/pseuds/demonbarber14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After meeting Tom Riddle, her whole existence changed. 50 years in the future, will her new friend make the same mistakes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Wrong Choices

Lauren’s face flushed slightly as Slughorn continued to praise her work.

“Headmaster Dippit even told me that she is in at least the top thirty percent in all of her classes” Slughorn went on, beaming at one of his prize members of the unfortunately named Slug Club. Lauren had been completely unnoticed by Slughorn until the end of the first quarter. Before then, he had overlooked her as a shy little thing who always did her work well and on time, but never talking unless asked a direct question, which wasn’t often. When he looked over her grades, however, Slughorn had been shocked to see that this calm wallflower was doing far better than anyone else in the class. He chastised himself for not recognizing her obvious talents and asked her to one of the Slug Club gatherings the next day after class and she accepted readily.

 

Everybody in the club forgot about her after the first day when they realized she had nothing to offer in the way of conversation. She sat quite contentedly at the end of the table quietly eating and listening to what the others said or drifting into her own strange world. She was used to being alone. Her overpowering shyness and the fact that she spent all her free time reading at the library did not win her any friends. That day, however, the interest in her was renewed. It was one thing to have a special talent in one class, but all of them; that showed something special. At the far end of the table, Tom Riddle sat and thought of the interesting new development. Like everyone else, he hadn’t previously paid any attention to her. Unlike everyone else, however, he knew exactly what to do about her. He had long since learned the benefits of befriending powerful people, whether they be teachers or exceptional students. Besides, he reasoned with himself, even if she turned out to be completely useless to him, there was no harm in having a little fun. Looking at her, however, he highly doubted that she was really worth the trouble. Her figure was unremarkable, more like a rectangle than an hourglass, with small breasts and hips to go with it. He decided that a pretty face could have saved her looks, but she was decidedly plain, even in that regard.  Her long, dull brown hair didn’t suit her face and her glasses and bad skin didn’t help matters. He could tell that she didn’t even bother with makeup. He had to admit, though that her brain was worth it. Clearly she was smart enough to be of use and sometimes it was the shy girls who were more willing to go to bed sooner, since they were more desperate and didn’t know how to tease or say no. He suppressed a smirk, thinking about some of his previous flirtations. He left all the important girls (powerful witches, those who came from good families, etc.) with their hearts intact, some of them still convinced that the two of them were going steady. The unimportant girls were not so lucky, though he tried to make as few actual enemies as possible during his stay at Hogwarts.

 

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully. As the students began to shuffle out of the door, Lauren noticed that Tom Riddle was by her side. She felt herself blush and hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“So” he began casually as they walked down the corridor together “top thirty percent in everything. That’s quite an impressive feat.”

“Thanks” she replied and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, wondering why he had suddenly started talking to her. She decided that she didn’t like being the center of attention. She loved getting the grades and the palpable feeling of envy in the room, of course, but when it came down to people actually talking to her, it was too much. She was so unused to human contact that it made her nervous. “I like your shoes” she added, realizing how stupid it sounded as she was saying it.

“Thank you” he replied gallantly. “I like yours too”.

“Thanks. I bought them about two years ago, but you really can’t tell. They hold up remarkably well”.

They continued to talk as they made their way down the hall. Tom was as charming as ever and even walked her to the painting outside the Ravenclaw common room. 

 

_Dear Diary,_

_I had a good day today. I did well on my Spells test (wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles) and had a lot of free time to study. I even got an extra two hours of reading done!_ The evolutionary history of magical creatures _is actually pretty interesting. My next book will be decidedly lighter, though. I’m due for a novel. I heard from mum and dad! All is well and apparently dad is mere inches away from getting a raise. Call me spoiled, but I hope he does. Prof. S announced my good grades during Slug Club. Also, Tom Riddle talked to me on the way back to the dormitories. I think I made a fool of myself, as always, but as pathetic as it may sound, I was grateful for the human interaction, short and shallow as it was. Anyway, I should get to sleep soon, so goodnight and I’ll see you tomorrow._

- _Lauren_

The next time Tom and Lauren saw each other, it was at the library three days later. She had been studying and was now reading a light muggle novel that her parents had sent her about a wonderful man who started having an affair with his best friend’s wife. It was so exciting that she didn’t bother to look up when Tom was next to her. Tom had just come from an exhausting study session in the room of requirement with a pert little Gryffindor who, like so many other girls, saw Tom as her pet “project”. He now stood next to Lauren and gave her a seemingly tentative “hello, again”.

“Oh, hello Tom!” she beamed. Surely if he came up to her again, he must like at least something about her. “Are you coming to the next Slug Club meeting?”

“I am. What about you?”

“Yeah. I like Slug Club. It’s nice just being able to just spend time and talk with other people”.

Lauren never actually talked during Slug Club, but Tom wasn’t about to point that out.

“I know what you mean. One can feel so” he paused for effect “alienated at Hogwarts”. He knew he had struck the right note because she nodded furiously and said that she knew just what he meant.

“I know! It’s probably the only thing I don’t like about Hogwarts. I enjoy being alone, though, so it all works out.”

“Do you like other people?”

The question was so direct that it caught them both off guard. Tom almost apologized for having asked her, until she replied.

“I just think that some things are more important than people and I just don’t always like being with people.”

Tom let a brief smirk cross his features. He knew how to read people and her misanthropy showed through to him for the first time, try as she may to conceal its extent. He knew precisely what approach to take now; the “I’m the only one who understands you”, “you and me against the world” method of attack would suit this girl well. He took a seat beside her and began talking in earnest. He talked about types of people he didn’t like; show-offs, cheerleaders, anyone who he assumed a girl like Lauren would hate. He was right on every count. She nodded, wide-eyed, and told him nearly every other sentence, “I know! I feel that way too!” He was never blatantly unkind, and only hinted at individuals, never naming names, but he made her feel like they were the only two real, living people in a world populated by phony idiots by saying things like, “People like _that_ just don’t understand”. He was almost surprised at how much hatred was in her and for some seemingly harmless people, but he kept on with his slow smile and low voice, making her feel with every sentence, every syllable, even, that they weren’t like anyone else.  He solidified the feeling by agreeing that yes, her sister was horribly unkind to insinuate that her glasses made her unattractive and even went so far as to say that she was probably jealous because Lauren’s glasses made her look lovely. He thought that even she could see through that, but she continued to lap up every word.

 

By the time Tom left Lauren, about an hour and a half later, Lauren was in a state of euphoria. She had always wanted to find someone like her, and she finally had. She had always thought that her hatred was something to be ashamed of, even scared of. With Tom there, however, it seemed almost natural. Sweet, understanding, good-looking Tom. She had felt a real connection with him. If she could feel hatred towards a stranger at the drop of a hat, she could certainly love a boy after two conversations. He was shy like her and was more interested in books than sports. She decided, quite calmly and still reading her book, that she loved Tom. She also knew that she would never be the same. As long as she lived, her first love would always be the dark haired, dark eyed, tall, pale, shy Tom Riddle. The thought made her pause in the middle of a sentence she was reading. _I love someone_. I _love someone_. _Me. I am in love. I am the one who feels all this. I will be the one to benefit or get my heart broken. There is no barrier between me and this feeling_. _I_ love _someone_. _Love._ _That thing that people do in books that makes them do stupid things. Love; what I didn’t think would happen to me. What I didn’t think I could possibly feel for a human being_. _I love_ someone _. My heart belongs to somebody else. I am not in control any more. He could ask anything of me and I would do it. I’m his completely_.She shook her head and kept on reading. There were still some things more important that people and literature was one of them.

 

Tom smiled as he left her, marveling at how easy she was to _possess_. He loved that word and let it roll around in his head. He knew that she had been won and the rest would be easy. He knew that he could prolong things by stringing her along; she was in such a state of devotion that she would probably stay loyal to him for years, but he decided to act quickly. He had gotten a good look at her breasts while she had been fuming and there was a certain soft plumpness about them that had been easy to overlook in the puritanical uniform the girls were forced to wear. Her legs were a little too thin, but their length almost made up for it. He realized that he almost looked forward to the inevitable little get-together they would have.  

 

Laura was frantic with nerves when she saw Tom sit next to her at the next Slug Club meeting. He had gotten handsomer since that day in the library and she had no idea what to say; should she let him know right away how she felt so that she could know what he thought of her and what to do next, or should she play it cool until something else happened between them.

“Hello, Lauren” he said softly. “I can call you Lauren, can’t I?”

“Yes, of course Tom” she replied, trying not to sound too eager. He was so far the first person at Hogwarts to use her first name. People only called friends by their first names; it was strictly last name basis for everyone else.

“Excellent. I would hate to think that I was being presumptuous.”

“You can be as presumptuous as you like, Tom”. Lauren realized how truly ridiculous those words sounded the second she said them. She put her palm to her forehead and groaned slightly. “I-I’m sorry. I’m really tired and that just sort of popped out. Sorry”.

“It’s all right, Lauren”. He smirked and leaned closer to her. “Besides, I may just take you up on that offer”.

“Okay” she sighed happily as he placed his hand on her stocking-clad knee. She had a vague notion that nice girls didn’t let boys do such things, but she would rather get attacked by a rabid dragon than do anything to make him stop touching her. She had no idea that “compromising herself” (her mother’s favorite phrase) would feel so good. The two continued to talk as the meal progressed. He took control of the conversation, sure that she was afraid of making a fool of herself. She was more than happy to listen to him. Everything he said seemed intelligent, funny, and poignant to her all at the same time. While he was talking, his hand glided further and further up her leg and by dessert, it had reached the small strip of skin between her stocking and her underwear. Lauren thought she would die from too much happiness and her face remained an unflattering shade of red throughout. Tom offered to walk her to Ravenclaw again and Lauren wouldn’t have refused for anything.

“So Tom, what do your parents do?” Lauren asked after a brief amicable silence. Tom was shocked for a few moments. Surely even Lauren knew about his orphan status. Then again, he reasoned, why should she? It’s not as if she would ever get the information through a friend. He quickly became almost pleased that he had been able to win her over without her sympathy.

“They’re both dead” he said quickly and quietly. He saw Lauren turn pale and look as though she were about to cry.

“Oh Tom, I’m so sorry” she almost whispered. She walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He returned her embrace, enjoying the feel of her breasts, small as they were, against his chest. When she finally disentangled herself from him, she kept her eyes lowered, not daring to look at him. She had forgotten for a moment who he was and she suddenly became embarrassed at the realization that she had literally flung herself onto the beautiful Tom Riddle. She started to say something, but he silenced her by tilting her chin up slightly (they were nearly the same height), and kissing her gently on the lips. Lauren nearly cried with the joy of it. When he pulled back from her, she stared at him for a moment not knowing what to say or do. _Flippancy might hurt his feelings and then he might think I don’t love him_ she thought rationally _but I don’t know if he meant it. Maybe he was just emotional. I can’t embarrass him by making a big deal out of it_. “I” she began lamely before going blank again. “I love you Tom” she managed to blurt out before promptly bursting into tears.

_Fuck, she looks hideous_. Even in the half-light, Tom could see how red her whole face had become. It was as if she had been physically altered to resemble a troll, and the whining, choking, gasping sounds she made didn’t help. He resisted the urge to walk away from her, however, and instead held her against him again. Her sobs became less horrifyingly loud as he stroked her hair and soothingly told her that everything was all right. He waited for the perfect moment between her sniffles before gently whispering, “I love you too, Lauren”.

“Really, Tom?” she asked, stepping back and looking up at him imploringly.

“Of course, Lauren” he replied simply. “But we’d better get back to our houses now, unless you want to spend quality time in detention together.” He took her arm and walked with her the rest of the way to Ravenclaw as she happily prattled on about how much she loved him. She fell onto her bed, overwhelmed by what had happened that night. She pulled the curtains around the rim of the bed for privacy, and curled up thinking everything over as logically as she could. She came to the conclusion that he probably did love her. She didn’t see any reason for him to lie about it. If she had fallen in love with him so quickly, why couldn’t he have fallen for her in that time too? Also, they were just so similar. It felt like they were the only two real people at Hogwarts. Everyone else was too phony to have felt anything remotely like what she and Tom felt for each other. They were incapable of it; too wrapped up in their own silly little lives and dramas to ever truly love someone else.

She went to sleep with one last thought constantly running through her mind; _I kissed Tom Riddle_. She knew that she could bear anything that happened to her just so long as she always had that moment to summon up.

 

Lauren next saw Tom at the library. She came in and saw him sitting alone at a desk. She tried to figure out how to do an immediate about-face without being too conspicuous. She was sure that the next time they met would be truly embarrassing, so she wanted to put it off. He saw her, however, and with a smile, beckoned for her to sit next to him. “Hello darling” he said, holding her hand after she had blushingly taken a seat.

“Hi, Tom” she smiled back, all anxiety replaced with pure love.

 _Might as well put the little slut to some use_ he thought.

“Lauren, would you help me with something” he asked as politely as possible, after a suitable bit of small talk.

“Of course”

“You see, I would like to get some information on the founding of the school, especially as it relates to[Salazar Slytherin](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Salazar_Slytherin) and there is quite simply too much material for me to read on my own.”

“Well, I can read some of the books for you and take notes.” She offered, before he had even asked.

He thanked her profusely and gallantly handed her only a few small books he had found to start with and told her to write down anything to do with Salazar Slytherin, no matter what it was or how unimportant it seemed.

“When shall I give you the notes?” she inquired, thrilled to be entrusted to such an interesting and obviously important task.

“How about next week, after dinner, here at the library?”

“Okay, Tom. I can start now if you want me to.” She promptly took out a piece of parchment and a quill, opened the first book and began studying it carefully. Tom looked at her with approval. For all her failings, she was proving to be a hard worker and her loyalty certainly couldn’t be denied.

 

One week and many sheets of parchment later, Lauren left the dining hall and waited anxiously for Tom. She constantly alternated between checking her watch and checking her notes, making sure she had gotten everything. She was proud of the work she had done. Every sentence relating to a topic even remotely connected to [Salazar Slytherin](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Salazar_Slytherin) had been transcribed word for word along with the book and page number she had gotten it from. She spotted Tom from across the hall and waved wildly. He returned the gesture, albeit far less frantically.  When they reached each other, she eagerly handed him the materials and explained her system of note-taking to him.

Tom had to admit to himself that he was impressed. He alternated between looking at the dozens of papers and to her face flushed with pride, and decided that he should reward her.  “Lauren” he began, adding a “darling” when he realized that she had used the front and back of each page “this is really very impressive”.

She bit her lower lip, trying not to shriek with joy.

“Listen, I’d like to take a closer look at this with you. Would you like to go to the room of requirement with me? It’s far more comfortable than the library.” Lauren said that she would love to go, despite not having a clue as to what this alleged room actually was. She knew, however, that she wouldn’t mind if Tom wanted to take a closer look in a basement broom closet. They got to the seventh floor and Lauren let out a little gasp as a door appeared after Tom had paced in front of the wall three times.

“Tom, it’s wonderful” she exclaimed as she stepped inside. She was impressed and more than a little confused as to why there was a lavish bedroom in the middle of a school.

“Yes, it’s really quite remarkable. You see, the room changes depending on what the person needs.” As Tom spoke, he put the books and notes down, came up behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder and used the other to brush her hair away from her neck.  She inhaled sharply and almost felt her heart stop beating when he gently pressed his lips against her neck. He smirked, feeling her devotion to him increase as his lips travelled down to her shoulder.

Lauren was in ecstasy. She had long ago discovered that putting her hand between her thighs and thinking about the actions she had only read about could produce an incredible response, and somehow, Tom’s lips on her body were producing the same results. His hands wandered to her breasts and when her only form of protest was to groan contentedly, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him. He continued to kiss her as he fondled and kneaded her breasts. His hands dropped to the bottom of the gray wool vest she wore and tugged it upwards. She raised her hands above her head obligingly and he pulled it all the way off. She turned towards him and planted a surprisingly forceful kiss on his lips.

“You have no idea how much I want this” she murmured.

He smiled and took off her tie and glasses before getting to work on her shirt. He unbuttoned the blouse slowly and deliberately. Lauren wasn’t quite sure what to do, so she simply stood there, awkwardly silent, thrilling every time he touched her. She blushed with embarrassment when he was finished and started to touch her bare skin. He groped her breasts, still covered by her bra, and let his other hand meander down to her soft, full belly. He mumbled something about her being pretty when he reached behind her and unhooked her shabby bra. He kissed her on the lips, letting his tongue wander inside her mouth, as his hands explored her naked breasts. He rubbed and massaged her chest, filling his hands with her warm breasts. He gave her already hard nipple a light squeeze and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped softly in a mixture of pain and of astonishment that Tom Riddle actually wanted to touch her. After a few more moments, he let go, gave a little nod towards the bed, and without a second thought, Lauren walked over to the bed and lay down.  He sauntered over to her and basked in the look of sheer admiration and awe in her face. He had her completely at his mercy. The thought excited him far more than her naked chest. He imagined all the things he wanted to do to her; stab her in the neck and watch the blood flow down her pale skin, beat her repeatedly until she was broken beyond repair, hit her with the Cruciatus Curse and watch her scream and writhe in pain. That wouldn’t do, of course, but it was pleasant to think about.

He climbed on top of her and after a few more obligatory kisses on the mouth, let his lips linger over her breasts for a few minutes. He bit and licked her, slowly working his way toward her nipple. She whimpered with anticipation, as his tongue teasingly meandered around her flesh. He finally reached her nipple, and licked it, before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it and lapping at it with his tongue. She gasped again and pushed his head closer to her. He responded by lightly biting her, which made her squeal even louder. His hand made its way across her soft, round stomach to the top of her skirt. He rolled off her in order to unbutton and unzip it, revealing a pair of light gray underpants. He then peeled off her stockings, noticing with a vague feeling of disgust, but certainly not surprise, that she didn’t shave her legs.

He went back to kissing her mouth as his hand plunged into her remaining article of clothing and his finger began probing the already wet area. He stroked at the sensitive flesh of her nether lips, and felt himself start to get hard. He took his hand away and moved his lips down the rest of her body. When he reached his destination, he glanced up at her eager, frightened face.

“You’re going to enjoy this, darling” he assured her, before dipping his tongue inside her. She cried out in joy, as he let his tongue roam around the moist fountain between her legs. He licked and sucked at her most sensitive areas, until he could taste the result of her violent orgasm. When he had enough, he stood up and began undressing himself. Lauren lay back and looked at the ceiling. There was no doubt in her mind that she was ready. She loved Tom, so how could she not be? It felt so good that she saw no reason to put a stop to it. She stretched out, not believing how lucky she was. Little Lauren, ugly, ignored, mocked, shy little Lauren had been chosen by Tom Riddle. The thought that anyone wanted to go to bed with her was incredible enough, but the fact that it was Tom filled her body with an incredible glow. She stole a few looks at him methodically removing his clothing and folding it neatly. He wasn’t particularly masculine, which she was glad about. His thin little body made her want to protect him and take care of him, after sleeping with him, of course.

Tom looked back at her, getting more and more aroused by her nearly naked form. Her brown hair spread across the pillow framed her childlike face quite well. Her expression was a delicious combination of frightened, loving, and completely willing. Her hard nipples jutted forward from her small breasts, as if eager for the feel of his tongue. Her long legs weren’t bad in the slightest, if one was far away enough not to notice that she hadn’t mastered the art of shaving yet.

He removed his belt with a wicked smirk and deftly removed his pants and underwear. He walked over to the bed and got on top of her. With one last hasty kiss to her lips, rammed himself into her. He felt her warm body close in around him as she gave little yelps of pleasure. He kept pulling out and thrusting back in, a little deeper each time until they both felt the moment she lost her virginity. It would have been painful, if Tom hadn’t been the one with her. He came inside her a few moments later, and rolled off contentedly after she let out a final groan of ecstasy.

“I love you, Lauren”

“I love you too, Tom.” She paused for a few seconds before tentatively asking “Was I all right?”

“Darling, you were marvelous”.

“Was that your first time?”

Tom knew what she wanted him to say, so, of course, he said it.

“I’m glad” she cooed, nestling in closer to him. “It was mine too”

The two lay next to each other in silence for a few moments. Lauren idly wondered how she would tell her parents and how they would react to the news. Tom was incredibly chuffed at how well he had done with her and was impatient to look at the notes. When he had enough of her clinging onto him, he disentangled himself from her and brought the notes over to a little desk. After some fervent pleadings from Lauren, however, he transferred to the bed, where she rested her head on his chest as he read, constantly telling her what a perfect job she had done and playing with her hair.

“Do you like [Salazar Slytherin](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Salazar_Slytherin)? As a person, I mean?” She asked after a long silence when Tom thought she was asleep.

“I never really thought about it, but I suppose so. What about you?”

“Well, I mean, I’m sure he was lovely if you knew him, but he is awfully mean about Muggles.”

“Are you loyal to the Mudbloods, then?”

“Tom” she began, embarrassed, “both my parents are Muggles.”

The sharp breath he took was almost imperceptible. He thought it was impossible at first, but then realized that he didn’t know anything about her. He had simply assumed that she was a Pureblood with no real evidence other than her good marks. He felt queasy at the thought of what he had just done. He had actually touched a Mudblood. He had been _inside_ her, no less. He wanted to bolt from the room and take a shower, to rub off all the skin that had come into contact with her. He calmed down after a few dizzy seconds. He decided not to harm her; after all, he needed to keep a low profile. He would just let her go gently. He squeezed her shoulder, kissed the top of her head, and continued reading the research she had gathered for him, carefully looking for any more clues on the whereabouts of The Chamber of Secrets.

 

 

Tom’s rejection of Lauren went incredibly smoothly. That is to say, Lauren was torn apart while Tom’s behavior could remain faultless. They rarely bumped into each other at school and when they did, he was the first one to say how much he wanted to spend time with her, but he just had so much work to do.  He would even come up with certain specific times they could be together, knowing full well that she had classes during those periods. After every failed attempt at a meeting, Lauren would always cry with the sheer unfairness of it all. Lauren was never angry at Tom; she just wanted to be with him and resented his classes for taking him away from her. She missed him terribly, and constantly worried that he was with someone else.

 

Eventually, she realized that he didn’t want her anymore and spent the rest of that day forcing herself to throw up in the bathroom, hoping to hurt herself without actually being in any real danger. If Tom didn’t love her anymore, she was obviously worthless. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him and their little rendezvous in the Room of Requirement had been over five months before. Her already low self-esteem became worse than ever until she reached the point where she felt like crying if someone looked at her for too long. Tom was all she had; the only thing that protected her from her classmates. Without him, she had no reason to disbelieve all the nasty things they said about her. She had no one to go to. Students bullied her and not even her parents took her seriously. Before Tom, it had been bearable. Now, she could no longer pretend that she was bullied and ignored because people just didn’t get to know her since her soul mate had dumped her. She walked across the lawn one evening after dinner in this state of mind when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Hey, Mudblood!” shouted a female voice. Lauren held her books tighter to her chest and continued walking. The footsteps caught up to her and she saw the Hornby girl for a second before the world became a blur.

“Nice glasses, Mudblood” said the seemingly disembodied Olive.

“Give them back” Lauren said as forcefully as she could without betraying the fact that she was on the verge of tears. She vaguely saw a movement from the blurry figure before it said, “Sorry, I just dropped them on the grass. I’d help you find them, but I need to get to my common room now. Bye.” Olive Hornby trotted off to the Gryffindor common room as Lauren crouched down, not caring how much of her legs people could see, and felt around the grass on her hands and knees to the taunts of students crowded around her. She realized quickly that Hornby had thrown her glasses across the lawn. In spite of strict rules about magic outside of class, she took out her wand and mumbled “ _accio glasses”._ The spell worked a little too well, and she ended up being hit in the nose, much to the amusement of the other students. She straightened herself out as much as possible and walked away quickly, already making choking, sobbing sounds in her throat. She had been through similar humiliations, so she knew exactly where the nearest girls’ bathroom was where she could cry in peace.

 

She didn’t know how long she had been in the stall when she heard a voice. It was definitely a boy, but she couldn’t tell who it was or what he was saying. She flared up in anger and found herself shouting, “Hey, you’re not supposed to be he-”

She never got to finish her sentence, and a few seconds later, the spirit of Lauren Rosalie Myrtle floated towards the ceiling, looking down at her small, crumpled body lying on the bathroom floor.

 

50 years later

Lauren never did find out who the mysterious boy was; he had fled the moment he had seen her body hit the floor. She wanted to go to Tom after she died, in order to make him feel guilty, but one look at his face from behind a massive decorative urn changed her mind. He was too beautiful and perfect to haunt and make miserable. Any hope of reconciliation died as well. If he rejected her while she was alive, he certainly wouldn’t want her now that she was dead. She did get a great deal of pleasure from torturing Olive Hornby, however. She dedicated her entire ectoplasmic being to making her live hell. It was Olive’s fault that she had died, Olive’s fault that she could never go outside again, Olive’s fault that she couldn’t even pick up a book, Olive’s fault that she couldn’t see her parents again, Olive’s fault that she was forced to remain on Earth, Olive’s fault that she couldn’t make amends with Tom. Even the small joy of harassing Olive was taken away by the Ministry, after a certain incident at Jonathan Hornby’s wedding. _Completely worth it_ , Lauren thought, resting on the windowsill of the lavatory. She heard someone come in and ducked out of sight in the nearest stall. Her heart quickened as her ears picked up the familiar sobs that she had been hearing for the last few weeks. She had sworn to herself that the next time she heard them, she would see who was crying and try to talk to him. Now that it actually was the time to do so, she was terrified. He might not like her. He probably wouldn’t. No one did. The thought made her bite her lip in an attempt to stop crying hysterically. With a final burst of resolve, she floated out of the stall and over to the boy sitting by the sinks crying into his hands. From what she could see, he was lovely looking. He had blonde hair, a relatively muscular form. He was probably far too wonderful to talk to her. Everyone else was.

“Boy, why are you crying?” she inquired as serenely as possible.

His head snapped up in fright and he began to rise up.

“Don’t be so shocked; you look as though you’ve seen a ghost”.

The boy made no acknowledgement of her attempt at humor and instead, slumped back dejectedly, too tired to say anything biting or cruel, too tired to do anything other than cry.

“You must be Moaning Myrtle, then.” He knew about her of course; the Mudblood who was killed by Lord Voldemort during his time at Hogwarts.

She nodded and sat next to him.

“I’m Draco Malfoy”

She remembered the name well; he was the boy Potter was trying to mess with during his second year. Well, if this boy was an enemy of Potter the Fink’s, they were already off to a good start.

Years of being alone in a bathroom stall had not taught Lauren any tact. “You come here a lot. Do people bully you?”

“You shouldn’t spy on people, you know.” His tears had subsided slightly and he started tilting his head to look at her.

“What else am I supposed to do? Also, you weren’t being very discreet.”

“Fair point” he mumbled, resting his chin on his fist, wanting her to go away almost as much as he wanted someone to talk to.

“I’m sorry if you’re being bullied. People can be very nasty sometimes. I get bullied all the time”

“It’s not that, it’s just that a lot of people are putting demands on me that I don’t think I can meet, but I’m terrified of what could happen if I don’t.” It felt wonderful saying it out loud and not having to act more sure of himself than he really was.

“That’s a form of bullying, I suppose”. She inched closer to him. “Anything you feel like talking about? I swear I won’t blab. Even if I do, no one would listen to me.”

“No” he replied simply.

She annoyed him further by sitting next to him in silence for another few minutes. He realized she wasn’t going to leave, but he didn’t want to go outside and face his problems just yet; he wanted a few more moments of safety in the lavatory. He sneaked a few looks at the girl next to him. It was obvious why everyone at school made fun of her. She was the perfect fodder for bullies; short, fat, bespectacled, pimply, and socially inept. She could have been saved by charming self-confidence and good humor, but the tragic air that surrounded her completed the pathetic picture. She stole a few looks at him and was devastated to see how beautiful he was. She might have had a chance if he had been hideous, but there was no hope of being friends with someone so attractive.

Draco saw a slight change in her face as she contemplated the depressing state of affairs. There was an anger in eyes that would have been comical, had it not been for the aura of sadness that surrounded it. A small part of him almost felt sorry for her. He reasoned with himself that he desperately wanted someone to talk to, and Moaning Myrtle would do. _Hell_ , he thought, _she might even be useful to me_.   

“Look, if you really want to know what’s bothering me…” he began.

Lauren nodded vigorously.

“Well, at the very tip of the iceberg, I’ve got schoolwork, prefect duties, Quidditch, so-called friends who need me to do everything for them, a girlfriend who gets upset if I’m not with her every moment, a father who’s in Azkaban, and then I’ve got Potter and his little gang of creeps trying to make my life hell.”

Lauren’s face, which had previously been knotted up in a scowl at the word “girlfriend” suddenly lit up. “Oh, I _hate_ Potter!”

“And why’s that?” Draco asked with a smirk, his tears nearly all dried

“He doesn’t visit me, even though I asked him to, and his friends make fun of me.”

“That sounds like them. They’ve got no sense of how to behave, but what else can you expect from a stuck-up little celebrity, an inbred idiot, and a dirty mudblood.”

Lauren, who had been enjoying herself, suddenly gave a shrieking cry and floated away as quickly as possible out the window. Draco stared at the wall in shock. He was so used to being with Slytherins that he had forgotten that Mudbloods were capable of conversation. He sighed and straightened himself out, prematurely exhausted at the thought of putting up the façade he had to use, convincing everyone that he was in control and knew just what to do.

 

Malfoy’s day went just as badly as he had expected. He got a 72/100 on his Charms test, earning him a dreaded “See me” at the top of the page. The vanishing cabinet was no closer to working than it was when he first started on it, and he hadn’t a clue as to how he would get rid of Dumbledore. When he tried to confide in Pansy about his stress and bad grade, she simply told him to study harder, but insisted on giving him a massage when he actually sat down with his book. Lying in bed that night, he wished he could have spent the day in the lavatory, telling the wide-eyed, translucent girl everything that was wrong. He couldn’t remember ever having anyone to talk to and in those few minutes sitting on the dirty floor, he had possibly found someone. He knew he couldn’t afford to give that up. He shut the thought out for as long as possible, but his mind kept wandering back to their one short meeting together.

 

A few weeks later, Lauren heard a knock on the door of the girls’ lavatory.

“Who is it?” she demanded, fresh from a bout of weeping by the window.

“Draco Malfoy. I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day.”

Lauren hesitated, then remembered his mournful eyes, perfect blond hair, and the fact that he was the first person to really speak to her in at least two years.

“Come in, then” she sniffled.

He walked in looking even more beautiful than she remembered.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. I’m just under a lot of stress.” Malfoy was brought up to never apologize, so he wasn’t very good. Lauren didn’t care, though.

“That’s all right. Everybody says stupid things sometimes.”

Malfoy bristled for a moment at being called stupid and Lauren noticed his discomfort.

“You know, you never did tell me why you don’t like Potter.”

He smiled and sat cross-legged on the floor and recounted some of his past encounters with “The Gryffindor goons” as Crabbe called them. Lauren sat across from him, her face growing more concerned and shocked with every new detail of the horrors he had suffered at their hands.  Malfoy made his stories more elaborate, even slipping in the story of how he was almost amputated by a hippogriff just to see her reaction. She then told him about everything they had done to her. She confessed that she had liked Potter at first; he reminded her of a boy she knew when she was at Hogwarts. Like the other boy, unfortunately, Potter had just used her. He asked her about her death, not because he cared, but because he needed the information for something she never found out about. She had told him to put that stupid egg under water before that tournament, but he never so much as thanked her, let alone visited her like he promised.

           

            She found herself crying as she told all this to Malfoy, but neither one cared. After an hour, Malfoy was forced to leave her to go to Potions class, which he was failing, despite the fact that it used to be his best subject. As he left, however both students were filled with joy at the idea of having an actual friend to talk to.

 

Author’s Note: I just want to thank everyone reading this and wanted to say that I would appreciate some reviews. I want this story to be as good as it can be, so any ideas for improvement would be more than welcome.

 

Malfoy and Myrtle soon started meeting up in the girl’s lavatory every day. At any other time in his life, Malfoy would have been ashamed to need sympathy from anyone, let alone the ghost of a Mudblood, but now, he didn’t know how he managed without her. He told her everything he dared, but was sure never to let slip anything that might connect him with The Dark Lord, of course. Secrets about his so-called friends, his daily stresses, his jailed father, and his feelings of incompetence, however, all came flooding out of him, along with tears that he would be ashamed to spill in front of anyone else. After a few weeks, he even began hinting at his great task; only saying that it was something important and dangerous for someone very powerful. Lauren would always give him the comfort he needed. She never tried to tell him to put a brave face on or remind him that things could be worse. She simply listened to his problems and showed real sorrow over them.

 

Lauren loved their meetings more than anything. She had found someone who actually needed her and enjoyed the feeling. She understood him. She understood the need for company, the need to cry, the need for comfort, and the anger toward others. Luckily, he seemed to understand that she shared the same needs as he did. He listened to her problems with far more sympathy than she thought a boy could have. He told her that those who bullied her were all beasts and that she deserved much better. He never told her to stop crying or stop being so overly-sensitive. He even remembered things she had told him and would bring them up long after she thought he had forgotten. He comforted her as much as he could when she wept about being forced to remain in Hogwarts as a ghost for all eternity, a fact that used to make her cry for weeks on end.

 

Draco tried not to think of the fact that he was helping the man who killed Lauren. Instead, he liked to think that Voldemort kept Lauren perfect for him. If she hadn’t been dead, Draco wouldn’t have gotten to see the way her pigtails fell in front of her shoulders, or hear the barking, abrasive laugh he had almost come to enjoy. Selfish as it seemed, Draco loved knowing that she would always be in the bathroom waiting for him. She often offered to help him with his enigmatic project, but he never allowed it. It was just as well. The two existed in their own private world together and the introduction of her to his dark acts would have tainted both of them in the other’s eyes. She loved him more than she had loved Tom, she realized. Draco was so wonderfully human. He was sensitive, lonely, troubled, and she knew she made him feel better.  Although she loved him, however, she didn’t want to try flirting with him, as she had done with so many other Hogwarts boys. No matter how much she may have wanted to be with him, she knew that it would be entirely inappropriate (not to mention impossible). Even when he told her about his break-up with Pansy, she ignored the little thrill she got and simply treated it as any other problem he had. 

 

                 There was only one afternoon they shared together that could actually be deemed fun, but it was the happiest time they had both spent in months, if not years. Draco was in the prefect’s bathroom, glad that he still had the privilege of the massive bathtub in spite of the fact that he shirked all of his prefect duties. It was the end of the day and he had decided not to do his homework and simply get an early night. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back so it was resting on the rim of the huge tub. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice from the ceiling.

“Hello, Draco”, Lauren cooed, reveling in the fact that they now used first names with each other.

“Hello, Lauren”, he replied, looking up at her, feeling slightly drowsy and stupid from having inhaled so much of the wonderfully scented warm water. She asked to join him and he agreed, despite the fact that he was completely naked in the clear water. He simply didn’t think of Lauren in any sexual way and was even oblivious to the fact that her eyes kept darting to his crotch.

“Draco, would you mind putting in some bubbles?” she asked after a brief pause. He agreed, of course and added towering amounts of bubbles of every color imaginable. Lauren clapped her hands in glee.

“I used to love bubble baths when I was at home. I could just sit in the warm water for hours and sometimes I would even bring in my record player and listen to my parents’ old records.” She paused slightly and a small frown crossed her face. “I miss feeling the warm water sometimes.”

                 As she spoke, Draco became suddenly grateful for the cover the bubbles were giving him. A completely unbidden thought had caused him to get somewhat aroused; the thought of Lauren in a bathtub. First, he pictured the image as she had described it; giving her plenty of bubbles and a record player. His mind soon took away all the bubbles and he imagined her lying naked in the clear water. He tried hard not to think about it, but he couldn’t help it. He saw her thick brown hair from a halo around her face, a much calmer and almost childlike face without her glasses. He saw the tips of her breasts above the water line, the nipples hard from the cold air around her. He saw her long legs stretched out in front of her and her hand delving in between her thighs, gently rubbing at the area covered by a triangle of coarse dark hair. The sight of the actual Lauren hovering on top of the water didn’t help matters. Luckily, she was content with floating just on top of the bubbles and passing her ghostly hand through the little hills they formed. She spoke dreamily about her Muggle childhood, her parents, her sister, and everything else she could remember. Draco watched her, and with a pleasant warm feeling, realized that he loved her. He loved her both purely and carnally, both madly and with good reason, both overpoweringly and quietly. All the thoughts that he had hidden away came back to him. The thought of how her lips would feel against his, how soft her belly would feel, and even vague thoughts about what it would be like if they went to bed together. He used to understand why she was bullied and teased, but now he wondered how every boy who saw her didn’t want to kiss the small mole on her shoulder, or give her hair a light tug, or hold her as she cried. He was jolted out of his thoughts when he felt a light splash on his face. Lauren did have some control over water, after all, and was able to send a tiny bit in Draco’s direction. He spluttered and retaliated with as big a wave as he could muster, knowing that she wouldn’t be affected. She laughed hysterically and the two continued splashing and swimming until long after all the bubbles were gone and the water became tepid.

 

 

                 After the day at the baths, Draco and Lauren became closer than either would have thought was possible. They spent even more time together and even tried touching each other on the shoulder or arm to try and comfort their grieving partner, but it was a tricky business and they usually failed miserably. Draco dropped more hints about his horrific task, yet never told her the full story. Lauren constantly comforted him after he admitted he had failed an attempt, and she always encouraged him when he said he had a new idea. She even taught him a powerful hex to put on a necklace that would automatically kill whoever touched the piece of jewelry. Lauren’s conscious gave her a brief pang, but it was nothing compared to her love for Draco and her hatred for everyone at the school who had ever bullied or ignored her. She had no idea who the hex would be aimed at, but there was no one she would feel sorry for.

 

                 Draco became infatuated with Lauren as time went on. He wanted to know every detail about her. The thought of her as a living person began to fascinate him, so one day, he went to the library and looked at all the yearbooks that included her, finally coming to the memorial page from 1943. She was smiling awkwardly in many of the pictures, and her eyes revealed the same sadness and anger she had in death. There were a few candid shots that featured the genuine smirk he had grown to love. There was also one of her with her family, and he could instantly see why her sister was favored by everyone, including their parents. Gloria Myrtle was everything Lauren wasn’t. She was tall and slender with perfect skin. She obviously took great care with her looks, judging by the dyed blonde hair, perfect make-up, and stylishly form-fitting dress. She gave out a naturally friendly aura that took up nearly the entire picture, leaving Lauren staring gloomily from the background with her bad skin, huge glasses, and boxy figure. Draco tried to feel sorry for her, but was too pleased with the fact that he had her all to himself. Nobody else would want to spend their time with her, so he knew that he was safe in her affections.

 

She saw him in the lavatory a few days later, hunched and sobbing over the sink. It wasn’t their usual meeting time, so she knew that something had gone wrong. She immediately floated over to him and tried to stroke his hair.

“Don’t, don’t” she soothed as he turned away and his sobs became louder than ever. “Tell me what’s wrong; I can help you” she pleaded for what seemed like the hundredth time, frustrated by his secrecy and by the knowledge that a flying, immortal girl who knew every inch of Hogwarts would most likely be invaluable to any task he may want to perform.

“No one can help me”, he replied simply, attempting a wry smile that made him look all the more tragic. He babbled a bit more about having to do “it” soon and if he didn’t someone would kill him. Lauren furrowed her eyebrows for a moment, unable to think of a response. She didn’t have to, however, because a moment later, Harry Potter of all people burst into the lavatory.

                 Myrtle watched the ensuing scene with a mixture of horror and fascination. At the time, it was the most important thing she had ever witnessed and no detail escaped her. Later, however, all she could remember was her beloved Draco bleeding on the floor, some greasy teacher telling her to leave the room, and someone wailing, “Murder in the bathroom” all around the school. As she floated down the halls, terrifying the students, she realized that she hated Potter as she had never hated anyone. She would have planned a horrible revenge had she not been so worried about Draco. If she could haunt Olive Hornby for separating her from some smarmy little pretty-boy with a slow smile, she could certainly do something worse to the boy who separated her from Draco. When she returned to the lavatory, Draco was gone. She was sure that he was dead. She began to weep even harder at the thought that she had listened to that sleazy teacher and hadn’t stayed with him. She could have told him that she loved him. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, it would have been worth it. She heard that only people who were afraid of death became ghosts and Draco was so brave that he wouldn’t become a ghost; he would go straight to heaven, or wherever normal people went, while she was stuck alone on Earth. She wept continuously for days, unable to keep track of time. As a ghost, she didn’t need any sleep, so all she did was cry and sometimes stare out the window, immobile for hours on end. During the sixth day of her weeping, she heard someone come in, but didn’t bother to turn around. No one deserved life if her Draco was dead.

“Girl, why are you crying?”

                 Lauren turned at the sound of voice; it was Draco. He looked more gaunt, tired and pale than ever, but he was her Draco and he was alive. She flew towards him and made an awkward attempt at a hug, causing him to gasp in shock at the iciness of her touch. She attempted an apology, but it was indecipherable among her sobs of relief. He smiled and even tried to hug her back.

“Look, Lauren” he said solemnly when she started to calm down, “After what happened, I think it’s only fair that you know exactly what I’m doing. I don’t want you to be caught up in something that you don’t fully understand. I thought that you would be safe, but when that _thing_ happened with Potter, I knew that I was obviously wrong and if you ever get involved in anything to do with me again; you have the right to know why.”

She nodded, trying to contain the grin that still plastered her face. They sat down on the floor together and Draco tried to think of where to begin.

“Have you ever heard of The Dark Lord, or Voldemort, or You-Know-Who?”

“I’ve _heard_ of him, I mean people talk about his being back sometimes. I don’t know what that means though. He sounds bad, though, from what I gather.”

Draco almost smiled at her understatement and told her the whole story, not daring to look at her face, though he shouldn’t have worried on that score. Lauren’s eyes were filled with as much concern and love as ever. It all made so much sense to her now and she respected him more than ever for having to do such a difficult task as having to both kill Dumbledore and let these Death Eater things into Hogwarts. She had no loved for the school that imprisoned her, nor for the students who always bullied and teased her.

“So, you see” he concluded, “If I only kill Dumbledore and not let the Death Eaters in, they’ll just put me in Azkaban and get a new headmaster. If I only let the Death Eaters in and not kill Dumbledore, he’ll just kill them off, so I need them to happen simultaneously.” He let out another sob and stared at the floor dejectedly.

“Draco, just be safe” she murmured. “I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.”

“Lauren, I don’t know what will happen to me, but I swear I’ll try to come back to you.”

“Will these Death Eaters destroy Hogwarts?” Lauren asked after Draco had regained some of his composure.

“I really don’t know what they want to do”

“Because if they do, well, I can’t be confined in a place that doesn’t exist, can I, so I can go wherever I choose and I can be with you.”

Draco smiled at her and allowed himself to believe her plan.

“That will be wonderful, darling.”

                 Draco and Lauren spent the next few weeks going over every detail of his plan. She would come up with possible snags and he would come up with ways of avoiding them or surmounting them. She taught him a few spells from her day that had gone out of style, to add an extra element of surprise just in case. She offered every scrap of knowledge she thought would be useful, just as she had done with Tom. Draco broke down a few more times, saying that he simply couldn’t do it and he should end himself. Lauren was always a comfort, however, and when the final day came, he was almost confident.

 

                

 

 

                 Draco came to visit her three hours before the event was to take place. They were awkward and formal with each other at first, both wanting to express their feelings, without acknowledging the fact that Draco could potentially be dead before the next day. Just as Lauren was about to start one of her rambling, tear-soaked speeches, Draco interrupted her.

“Lauren, there’s something I want to do and if I don’t do it now, I’ll feel terrible because I don’t know for sure if I’ll ever have this chance again.”

“Okay, Draco” Lauren replied, confused but curious.

“I don’t know if this is going to work, but…” his voice trailed off as he leaned forward and gently kissed her ice cold lips. It was perfect for a moment, until he got a little over-zealous and pushed his lips right through hers. He pulled back and grunted with frustration and she giggled slightly.

“It might be easier if you let me try” she offered. “Just hold still”.

Their second attempt yielded far better results and after a few missteps and brain freezes on Draco’s part, they were able to French kiss with surprising success. Lauren was elated with their romantic developments, despite the fact that she couldn’t feel a thing. She nestled her head on his shoulder as best she could and began crying a little, out of sheer joy and of terror at the thought of what might happen to her darling Draco. Draco stared ahead blankly, trying to fight the sexual urges he was starting to feel. True, kissing her had been weird to say the least, but it had been backed by more emotions; love, understanding, fear, and desire, than any of his casual screws with Pansy had been. Even his first time with Pansy, the night of the Yule Ball, was far less exhilarating than one kiss with Lauren that they shared sitting on a dirty bathroom floor.

“I’d give anything to be able to hold you” Draco murmured.

“I feel the same about you. Draco, let’s…” she searched for the proper word “be together. Right now, so that no matter what happens…” her voice trailed off as she began crying again.

“All right, darling” he whispered breathlessly, feeling himself start to get hard at the thought.

He had imagined their sleeping together plenty of times since their afternoon together in the bath, but imagined it as though she had been a living girl and not a cold vapor who couldn’t even take her clothes off.

They tried it as though she were alive, but to no avail. Draco stripped off his clothes and Lauren admired him. He was slender, but there was something powerful about him that made her feel safe. He looked like he could kill a man far more powerful than he. Draco got on top of her, after going through her a few times, but her body was so cold that he simply couldn’t continue.

“I’ve got an idea” she told him, after he gave a blunt, embarrassed apology. “Go stand by the sink and turn on the hot water tap”.

He did so and she started to scoop up the water in her hands and splash him with it. He enjoyed the sensation and felt himself become hard again. Lauren suppressed a giggle and continued bathing his crotch in warm water.

“You can touch yourself if that would help” Lauren suggested.

Draco did as she told and began stroking his throbbing member until he felt as though he would burst.

“Lauren” he gasped “I’m about to…”

“Sit down” she commanded.

He complied, and she promptly sat on his lap. He came a second later, accompanied by a sharp grunt and a thrust of his hips.

Lauren rolled off him and watched as he cleaned himself up.

“That was really good” he said breathlessly. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”

The two continued to talk quietly, exchanging promises and memories, until the time came for him to leave. He got up slowly, wanting every second to last as long as possible.

“Good luck, Draco. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known.” Lauren said, extending her hand, which he shook solemnly.

“It’s been an honor, Lauren. If they dare to bully you again, remember that Mudblood or not, you’re worth every student at this school combined.” He gave her a small bow and left the room.

Lauren stared at the door in a state of wonder. She realized that she had forgotten to tell him that she loved him, but she knew it didn’t matter. It was clear how much they loved each other. It didn’t need words or labels. It didn’t matter if they ever saw each other again. Even if he died while she remained in the limbo she was trapped in, she knew that part of them would always be together. They didn’t need to see or talk to each other again to still be in love. She let herself drift out the window, allowing the cold wind to blow her wherever it wanted. She didn’t mind.

 

The End

 

 

 

 


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